Vengeance is a Virtue
by Odyssion
Summary: A good son follows in the family values, no matter what the cost.


**Vengeance is a Virtue**

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Naruto.

_Author's Notes:_ Written on a complete whim after I watched the Uchiha flashback episode.

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From the moment they are born, every Uchiha male is taught the family values: pride, family, and strength. By the time they can talk, the words have become an inescapable mantra. Even with the clan in irreparable ruins, the terms are so ingrained in his being that he will do all he can to uphold them.

He forsook everything in life for the sake of his murdered family.

For vengeance, he gathered hate. His conscience coiled like a beheaded snake that gripped and then withered and died. His heart rotted from the core, imploded on itself by the things he made it bear. His hands seemed so helpless as he held them against the moon, smothered by the intensity of nocturnal light. After a time he couldn't even trace the outline of his fingers, blended quietly into the glow.

There were whispers of his flawed personality, but they were only said in back alleys and away from authority's ears. No one could fault his outstanding performances, and so he was left alone enough for his liking. He never needed friendship or acceptance. Another's comfort did not ease his mind or body; another's pain did not wring his heart. Some called him cold and aloof while others called him "prodigy". He listened without hearing and went on.

Nothing compares to losing a loved one, let alone all of them in the blink of an eye. Although he was mature for his age, inside he was still a child. Children's dreams are not plagued by blood and death and hell, but that is what he returned to. He returned to streets littered with bodies, and the murderer standing over his parents' corpses.

He doesn't like to think about the last part much. Involuntarily, he got the truth – saw the morbid play with fear and something akin to consternation. The first wave of anger broke over his eyes and retreated, never to return. How do you calmly talk to a killer? He doesn't think asking _him_ a question was the smartest thing to do, but he did it anyway. _His_ reply seems cryptic even though it is plain enough, and doesn't exceed ten words.

He cannot explain why _he_ chooses not to act, but from that day forth there is only hatred in his life. He gathered every ounce he could from those who detested him, those who once cared about him, even those who he cared about. _His_ voice is seared into his memory. His eyes start to burn in a way he cannot explain. He vowed to train for years, vowed to kill _him_ if it was the last thing he would ever do. Leaving the village was strangely difficult, even when he had nothing left to keep him there.

And now he is taking the road to his destiny. Although he's never seen his lair before, it's not hard to find. Soon the air is dense and he can sense the shinobi around him, sense the bodyguards Orochimaru sends to scout his progress. It doesn't matter; all he needs is to talk to him.

As if waiting for him, the man stands under the shade of an outstretched tree, its leaves drawing a pattern on his sallow face. He stops some distance from his body. As Orochimaru turns to face him, he can feel the amusement radiating from his devil of a soul.

He has to check his anger as the cynical lips draw into a smile. "I knew you'd find me."

When he doesn't reply, the snake's smile widens into a condescending smirk. "What's the matter? You look like you're unhappy to see me."

"You know why I'm here."

"Ah yes. To get 'vengeance for your family', isn't that right?"

Once again he resists the taunt, and the other seems disappointed. "I'd almost call that sentimental, except… well, you're not exactly on good terms with your brother, are you?"

He does not mean to let his face betray him, but it does anyway. Orochimaru picks up on it immediately.

"The dear brother that you so loved. Tell me, is it really worth it? Wouldn't you rather have him love you again than kill for the sake of ghosts?"

His face is calm, but his voice is steel. "I will avenge my family."

"Of course. Shall we get on with it, then?"

This time it is his turn to smile. "I thought you would never ask."

As they both pick their weapons, the cold voice cuts across the wind like a sword through stone.

"You know, Itachi, it really is too bad that he thinks you killed them. Won't you ever tell him the truth?"

His eyes flash a demonic red. "I will avenge my family."

For vengeance, he gathered hate. His brother would never fully understand what happened that night, but regardless of what happened now, they had held on to those words. He hoped that vengeance would put his ghosts to rest. He hoped that vengeance would be enough – for the both of them.

**END**

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_AN:_ That probably made very little sense… but the whole idea was that everything Sasuke saw was from Itachi. Who's to say he's telling the truth? I know no normal person would pretend to be a killer, but Itachi's weird like that. 


End file.
